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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28165047">one single human emotion</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/airplaneconstellations/pseuds/airplaneconstellations'>airplaneconstellations</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Hockey, Alternate Universe - Human, Because it's Gavin, Detroit Evolution, First Kiss, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Octopunk Advent, but not super traumatic at all, d-man gavin, day 17 - ice skating, goalie nines, just a standard hockey injury, kind of, look i have a lot of goalie feelings okay, mentions of sidney crosby's jockstrap</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:49:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,015</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28165047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/airplaneconstellations/pseuds/airplaneconstellations</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nines has always had this weird thing about the number nine - it's his hockey number, sure, but he always has to do things nine times, or some other number with a nine in it, whether it's exercises of glasses of water or the number of times he bounces his tennis ball against the wall in the hallway before games. Whatever, they're hockey players, they've all got superstitions. At least he doesn't have a thing about his jock like Crosby did. </p>
<p>Actually, maybe that'd be good. Gavin doesn't think he'd be having this whole crush problem if Nines still wore the same jockstrap as he did when he was 14.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>one single human emotion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>a couple things, before we start: <br/> - it physically pained me to put these good good boys on the detroit red wings. i hate the detroit red wings. but I couldn't think of a good reason to put them on a different team. hopefully detroit is actually good at hockey by 2040 <br/>- I'm pretty sure you can still read this fic even if you know nothing about hockey. if you have any questions about like rules or sidney crosby's jockstrap thing I will be happy to answer them in the comments :) <br/>- if you have not seen detroit awakening and detroit evolution on youtube, YOU NEED TO!! michelle is a badass and I aspire to be her. maximilian koger and chris trindade are the PERFECT nines and gavin, to the point where I no longer picture the actual actors in the video game as the characters, I picture these two. subscribe to octopunk media I love them</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gavin might be having a <em>small</em> crisis.</p>
<p>Okay, maybe it’s not exactly small, but in his defense, he just realized, like, half an hour ago that he definitely has a hardcore, middle school crush on Nines Anderson.</p>
<p>It’s fine. It’s whatever.</p>
<p>But, actually, it’s not fine, for a whole lot of reasons. One, Nines is the goalie of Gavin’s NHL team, as in <em>professional sports</em>, and it may be 2040 or whatever but sports are not a very chill place to be gay. Or pansexual, which Gavin is, but it’s not like anyone would care.</p>
<p>Two, Gavin has never seen Nines express a single human emotion in the entire two years since the latter got traded to Detroit from wherever the hell he’d been before. Space? Gavin doesn’t remember. The media likes to call Nines a hockey robot, like the goalie version of Crosby or McDavid — like all the brain space that was supposed to go to his social skills got poured into the <em>inhuman hockey talent</em> slot. It doesn’t help that they all call him by a number — his real name is Richard or something, Gavin thinks. But he’s always had this weird thing about the number nine — it’s his hockey number, sure, but he always has to do things nine times, or some other number with a nine in it, whether it’s exercises or glasses of water or the number of times he bounces his tennis ball against the wall in the hallway before games. Whatever, they’re hockey players, they’ve all got superstitions. At least he doesn’t have a thing about his jock like Crosby did.</p>
<p>Actually, maybe that’d be good. Gavin doesn’t think he’d be having this whole crush problem if Nines still wore the same jockstrap as he did when he was 14.</p>
<p>The <em>point</em> is, Gavin cannot have a crush on Nines Anderson, because it would fuck, like, a lot of things up. But Nines is ridiculously pretty, and his voice is all melodic and quiet, and his dark hair sticks up with sweat when he takes off his mask at the end of practice, and he may pretend he doesn’t have a personality but sometimes he’ll chirp the forwards when they take shots on him and it’ll be the funniest thing Gavin’s heard all week, and Gavin is <em>so</em> fucked.</p>
<p>“Reeder,” Miller calls from across the locker room after morning skate. They’re playing Seattle tonight. “You coming to lunch with us?”</p>
<p><em>I am not emotionally stable enough to go to lunch right now</em>, Gavin wants to reply. He ends up saying, “Sure.”</p>
<p>So he goes to lunch.</p>
<p>Chris and Tina are cool; they’re, like, his best friends, or whatever. They were rookies together, except Chris and Tina got picked a lot higher in the draft that Gavin did. Not that he’s insecure about it.</p>
<p>Whatever. Coach Fowler gave him a chance for a reason, Tina likes to remind him. What matters is that he’s the best hockey player he can be <em>now</em>.</p>
<p>Of course, because Gavin can’t catch a break, they end up talking about Nines.</p>
<p>“It’s cool Nines ended up on Connor’s team,” Chris is saying, twirling his fork in the biggest pile of spaghetti Gavin’s ever seen. Seriously, that plate could fill half their team’s helmets.</p>
<p>“They’re twins, right?” Tina asks idly.</p>
<p>“Nah, I think Connor’s older,” Chris replies. “They do look exactly the same, though.”</p>
<p>“Nines is taller,” Gavin puts in, reaching for the ketchup.</p>
<p>“You would know,” Tina says. “I bet you read his stats every night before you go to bed.”</p>
<p>Gavin scowls. “Shut the fuck up. No I don’t.”</p>
<p>“He’s all you talk about these days,” Tina continues. “It’s all, <em>did you see that sick save Nines made at practice?</em> and <em>did you know that Nines puts his pads on from left to right?</em> and <em>did you know that I watch Nines while he sleeps because I’m in love wi—</em>“</p>
<p>Gavin smacks a hand over Tina’s mouth, cutting her off. “Shut up, oh my god. I’m not in love with Nines.”</p>
<p>She licks his hand, and he makes a disgusted noise and wipes it on her shoulder. “Sure, Reedsy. Whatever you say.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>///</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Seattle is, most of the time, a total bitch to play. They’re chippy and aggressive and Gavin always leaves the ice covered in bruises, bones aching and muscles like molten rock, so, needless to say, Gavin’s not really looking forward to playing them in — he checks his watch — about forty minutes.</p>
<p>Honestly, at this point, he probably doesn’t even need to check his watch to figure out how long it is until puck drop. He’s been in a locker room with Nines for long enough that he could just glance at Nines to see what he’s doing and that would tell him as much as the time would. Nines has his pregame routine down to an exact science, scheduled by the second. It’s the least surprising thing about him.</p>
<p>Right now, when Gavin glances over, Nines is taping his sticks, his movements smooth and mechanical. Watching him loop the tape around the blade over and over, Gavin almost believes the hockey robot speculation. Every turn of his wrist is the exact same, like a gif on loop.</p>
<p>“You’re staring,” Chris mutters under his breath, and Gavin scowls and tears his eyes away.</p>
<p>Soon enough, they’re skating out onto the ice for warmups, and Gavin allows himself to bask in the roar of the Detroit home crowd as he loops smoothly around their half of the rink. He goes about his warmup business, tossing pucks to cute little kids and people with funny signs, chirping Chris for his stickhandling drills, firing shots at Nines (who doesn’t let a single one go in, and who smirks obnoxiously every time he saves one. Gavin would be mad if it wasn’t so goddamned attractive).</p>
<p>The first couple periods of the game go alright — the teams are pretty evenly matched, both with a solid D-corps and extraordinarily talented top line centers in Connor Anderson for Detroit and Ada Kamski for Seattle.</p>
<p>One time last year, Kamski scored five goals on Nines in one game, and after the fifth one, she skated by and patted Nines on the head like he was a cute child. Gavin had never seen more intense, unadulterated rage in Nines’ steel blue eyes than that moment. For a second, Gavin honestly thought Nines was about to get in the first fight of his NHL career, but he’d gotten pulled before he had the chance. He’d just spent the last ten minutes of the game looking murderous on the bench. It didn’t help that Seattle had went on to win the Stanley Cup that season.</p>
<p>They leave the ice for second intermission with the score tied at 2-2.</p>
<p>“Feeling good, Nines?” Gavin asks as he holds the door open for his goalie, because he’s a good defenseman like that.</p>
<p>“Better if we were winning,” Nines replies mildly. Gavin has no idea why he’s so infatuated with him.</p>
<p>“Maybe if you hadn’t let North score on you...” Gavin sighs, trailing off. He’s had assists on both goals Detroit has scored, he thinks he’s entitled to make fun of Nines.</p>
<p>Nines evidently disagrees, because he turns around to scowl at him. “Well, if you hadn’t turned the puck over like a rookie — “</p>
<p>“Boys,” Fowler sighs from behind Gavin. Gavin does not jump, because he's an adult, and that would be ridiculous. “You can flirt after the game.”</p>
<p>Gavin’s so distracted by his own face flushing that he almost doesn’t notice Nines turning red, but then he does, and — huh. That’s interesting.</p>
<p>He doesn’t really have time to think about it, though, because they are in the middle of a hockey game. Intermission, but still, Gavin’s got shit to do.</p>
<p>Twenty minutes and an impassioned speech from Fowler later, they’re skating back on the ice for the third period. Gavin lines up for the faceoff, and he can see Ada Kamski’s eyes blazing as she gets into position across from Connor at center ice.</p>
<p>Connor wins it, flips the puck back to Gavin, and they’re off to the races. Gavin gets it forward to Chris, on Connor’s left wing, but Chris turns it over before he can get it down the ice towards Seattle’s goalie. Gavin’s left skating hard towards Nines, trying to get the puck off North’s stick. He doesn’t quite manage it, but he does get her to loop around the back of the net, and he finally steals it from her.</p>
<p>He doesn’t even realize it’s happening, but one second, he’s rounding the other side of Nines’ net with the puck, and the next he’s on his back on the ice, all of the air in his lungs punched out of him.</p>
<p>Ada Kamski may be small, but <em>damn,</em> can she hit. Gavin lays on the ice, gasping, as Kamski charges down the ice with the puck. He can’t even worry about her, though, because he can’t seem to breathe, and every time he does pull a significant amount of air into his lungs, his chest seizes in pain.</p>
<p>Fuck, if Ada Kamski just broke his ribs, he’s gonna be <em>pissed</em>.</p>
<p>It takes a second for him to register Nines kneeling down next to him, but once those concerned eyebrows fill his vision, he loses his breath all over again. He’s distantly aware of the whistle blowing at the other end of the ice, stopping the play. He reaches out, gripping Nines’ jersey in his hand.</p>
<p>“Hey, Gavin, you’re okay,” Nines soothes, shaking off his glove and setting his bare hand lightly on Gavin’s side. Nines is the only one on the team who ever calls him Gavin. “Slow breath in, yeah?”</p>
<p>Gavin tries to follow his instructions, but his lungs expand to a certain point, and a sharp pain jolts through his chest again, making him gasp. Nines’ eyebrows furrow even further. “You need a trainer, Gav.”</p>
<p>“I can skate off by myself,” Gavin replies through gritted teeth. He's not about to get stretchered off. Standing's the least he can do. “Help me up.”</p>
<p>Nines sighs, but he holds out his hand, grasping Gavin’s tight and pulling him up. Gavin’s side screams with pain, but he clenches his jaw and sucks it up. He lets Nines skate him to the bench, and then he heads down the tunnel, the trainers close behind him.</p>
<p>The trainers poke and prod at him for the rest of the period while Gavin watches the game on the TV in the room, wincing periodically. They give him some ice, and then they leave him alone to stew. He <em>hates</em> being injured.</p>
<p>He’s in the middle of thinking about what show he’s going to binge watch while he’s on IR when the door opens and Nines, in his under armor and still sweaty from the game, comes in.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Gavin says, and winces.</p>
<p>“Are you okay?” Nines demands, setting a hand on Gavin’s knee and searching his eyes.</p>
<p>“I’m alright,” Gavin says softly, mostly because it hurts to talk any louder. “Broke a couple ribs, probably. I’ll just be useless for the next few weeks, it’s fine.”</p>
<p>Nines frowns, and when he speaks, it’s gentle but insistent. “You’re not useless.”</p>
<p>“Hockey’s all I do, Nines,” Gavin replies dryly. “If I can’t do that, there’s not much else I’m good for.”</p>
<p>“You’re good for a lot of things, Gav,” Nines says softly, and his face is very close to Gavin’s. “You’re good.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Gavin says, his voice a little weaker than he'd like it to be.</p>
<p>Nines examines his face for a beat, and then he’s leaning in, and Gavin doesn’t even realize it until their lips are pressed together.</p>
<p>Nines pulls back after a second, but Gavin recovers from his initial shock quickly, threading his fingers into Nines’ hair and kissing him again, deeper. Nines’ hands settle on his thighs as he leans close.</p>
<p>“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nines asks, voice a low rumble in his chest.</p>
<p>“Never better,” Gavin replies, equally soft, and kisses him again.</p>
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